


Hold 'Em Down, Breath 'Em In

by reliand



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Nogitsune Stiles, Tail Sex, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 15:26:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1693241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reliand/pseuds/reliand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re not him,” Derek spits. “You’re just wearing his face.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold 'Em Down, Breath 'Em In

“Sorry,” Stiles says, head not lifting from Derek’s pillow. “I couldn’t sleep at my own house. Felt weird.”  
  
“So you thought you’d take my bed?” Derek asks, settling himself on the edge of the mattress. Stiles doesn’t answer, just stretches his spine and points his toes, curls around Derek’s pillow. His baggy sweatpants twitch up at the back of his thigh and Derek stills. A moment passes where the hairs on his arms stand up and Derek pounces, pinning Stiles to the bed, hand wrapped around the back of the boy’s neck.  
  
“You’re not him,” Derek spits. “You’re just wearing his face.”  
  
It doesn’t even fight Derek. Instead, tilts his head to look up at Derek, eyes ill-looking. Sad pull of his eyebrows, iris and whites going glassy.   
  
“Don’t you trust me, Derek?” It asks, and It sounds so much like Stiles, because the entire basis of their friendship is built on that word.   
  
“No, because you’re not him,” Derek grits out. Stiles’ shoulders slump, defeated face crumpling. The scent he’s emitting pulls at Derek, and he lets his grip go a little looser, thinking that maybe he’s mistaken. It’s the wrong move, however, because that moment of weakness allows something to break his grip entirely as it wraps around his wrist. Something else, just as soft, grabs the other.  
  
At once, Stiles is on him. Derek’s the one being pinned, and Stiles’ teeth are bared in a puckish grin.   
  
“Look at you,” Stiles says, right against his ear, hands against his chest. The skin of his cheek rasps against Derek’s beard as he drags his face across his jaw; nestles his face against Derek’s neck and takes in a lungful of air through his nose, scenting him. “Stiles loved being right here. Face buried against your throat. You smell just as he told me you would.”  
  
“And what’s that?” Derek asks. He can feel the fox smile against his neck, the nip of his teeth before he answers.  
  
“Defeat,” Stiles says against his skin. Derek closes his eyes, turns his face away, because he remembers what it felt like. He couldn’t move his body, but Stiles’ hot breath and shorn hair against his chin and neck is not something he’ll ever forget.   
  
“He was so afraid you all were going to die that he couldn’t even appreciate that you were his companion. But I can,” It whispers, licking up his neck and rolling his hips into Derek’s.   
  
Derek’s eyes fly open at the sensation, and he can see what he’s being held down with. It’s a tail, fluid and prehensile, wrapped around a wrist, and when he clenches the muscles in his forearm it twines further. He turns his head to look, wants to see the other side, but he’s met with Stiles sucking a mark into his collarbone, which makes Derek hard. Stiles removes his mouth to look Derek in the face, and Derek feels the creature’s hands moving between them, shoving down his sweats, and Derek’s surprise must show on his face.  
  
“Do you like them?” Stiles asks through a smile, because Derek can see more extremities, now that they’re not being confined in his sweats. Stiles’ works Derek’s jeans open, gets his cock free, but Derek is concentrating on the steady swish of two tails over Stiles’ shoulder. He can feel another coiling around his thigh as Stiles adjusts his body so their dicks are aligned.   
  
“Jesus Christ,” Derek murmurs. “How many do you have?”  
  
“I’m a thousand years old,” It whispers. “Take a wild guess.” And then another curls around both of their cocks, starts to jerk them off. Twisting round and round and making Derek arch into it, gasp when the nogitsune seals his mouth against Derek’s. Stiles is rutting against him, the steady winding of his tail seemingly not enough to satisfy him. He bites Derek’s lip as he bucks against him, draws blood though the wound seals in seconds. Stiles licks it away, amber eyes glowing down at Derek.  
  
“Next time,” Stiles groans. “I’m going to slick one of my tails up and I’m going to fuck you with it,” he growls against his mouth, and Derek comes without warning. Warm, sticky fluid over his stomach and Stiles’ tail. The orgasm makes his toes curl and his eyes roll back into his head, but he can see the blackened veins in the nogitsune’s corded throat, and knows It’s drawing on Derek’s pleasure. It comes all over Derek a moment later.


End file.
